


A Coward Called My Name

by Talking_Mold



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa THH, Danganronpa
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Danganronpa THH, Everything else idk I hate filling out tags oopsies, Ishimaru Kiyotaka - Freeform, M/M, Mondo Oowada - Freeform, danganronpa - Freeform, danganronpa trigger happy havoc - Freeform, idk what to call it, ishimondo - Freeform, like normal life I guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 12:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17642618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talking_Mold/pseuds/Talking_Mold
Summary: To Taka, order was everything, and everything was made for order. These were principals that piggybacked everything he did. From exams to simple everyday things like brushing his teeth, the monotony of order kept him comfortable. If anything, monotony kept him driving forward in life. A straight line to goal, after goal.But this couldn’t last forever.As a part of the Morals Committee, the young man partook in many of the programs they’d set up. This ranged from organizing school assemblies to volunteer work outside the academy. So when the idea of a rehabilitation program was propped up, Kiyotaka was quick to sign up. After all, the reason he did all this was to uplift others. The idea was just too perfect. Unaware of just who he was going to be working with, he looked towards the future, blind to the sudden turn it’d be taking.





	A Coward Called My Name

He could hear them laughing. Even if it wasn’t in his face, everyone knew. He’d been caught red-handed. Mondo Oowada did a lot of reckless shit, and he knew it. When it came to managing something as big as the Crazy Diamonds, you had to do stupid shit if you wanted to stay in power. To Mondo, this was second nature. Fond memories of stealing stop signs, and destroying bars often popping up when it came to his idea of reckless fun. And his gang was quick to cheer him on for it. Just like his.…   
No- right now, these memories were void. What was the point of thinking about something that doesn’t get you outta the damn mess you’ve made right now. 

The initial idea was simple. Ride up into the town, and fuck with some of their road signs. Simple enough. A more, sit back and watch the fireworks kinda mission. Hell, everyone was laughing when the idea was brought up over an otherwise dull, drink-fueled hangout. It was too good not to do, and before they knew it they were riding into the town. Cool wind, clear night skies, seemingly all too perfect for what they’d end up getting in return. 

“How far into the ground do they gotta dig this shit?” Mondo barked, hands stained red from strain as his small posse tried to tear the metal sign from what was then discovered freezing winter ground. 

“More than enough that’s for fucking sure,” he could hear someone wheeze back. Heavy breath puffing out in the form of small white clouds, evaporating in the air as fast as they came. 

Sirens 

It was from a good distance, if they were smarter they’d be miles away by now. They weren’t. With drunken nerves spiked, all Mondo could do was yell louder, pull harder. The plan was to fuck with the road signs, and he was going to fuck with the stupid ass road signs. 

“PULL GOD DAMN IT!” The man's grip tightened with every word. 

“Mondo I really th-“ 

“THAT DOESN'T SOUND LIKE PULLING.” The sirens were getting louder. Focused on the deafening screeches of the vehicle behind him, the gang leader barely heard the sound of feet scattering to who knows where. It didn’t click for Mondo until long after he got caught. Hands up, the young man was dragged once again to the blinding lights and stale air of the local police station, quick to roll his eyes at any complaint the officer brought up. 

“Do you know how many times we’ve brought you here son? As this is your…”

Blather, all of it. Blowing loose strands of hair from his face Mondo turned his attention towards anything that wasn’t the damn pig in his face. It didn’t take long before he finally settled on the clock, neatly placed on the back wall of what was otherwise another poorly funded police station. 

“-We’re going to be enrolling you in a new trial program.”

Trail…program?

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for the rushed ending, as I wanted to get at least the prologue out before some events unfolded in my personal life. In the future I will try to take more time for a more satisfying ending.
> 
> Otherwise- uh, idk, this exists now Chapter 1 in the making


End file.
